Decay
by AniKey
Summary: Everything rots if it's left alone long enough. Or, how Crowley continues to use people from the brothers' past against them.
1. Chapter 1

_"What's the line? Saving people, hunting things. The family business. Well, I think the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused. The one thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there, happy and healthy because of you. You great big bloody heroes! They're your life's work, and I'm going to rip it apart, piece by piece, because I can. Because you can't stop me. Because when they're all gone, what will you have left? You want to keep those people alive, I want complete and utter surrender. The tablets, the trials, you'll give them up, or we'll keep doing this dance. Your choice, my darlings."_

Crowley hung up the phone with a loud click. He swiveled in his chair, leaned back casually, and addressed the demon before him. This one was an interesting case, he thought. One of the last ones he expected to be, of all things, co-operative. "So, I hear you're familiar with the Winchesters."

Black eyes shot upward, almost as quickly as the demon's head. "Might be," it said offhandedly. "What's it to you?"

Well, perhaps co-operative was the wrong word. More like willing. He liked that. It meant this one would get the job done, hopefully without screwing it up. "Nothing," he said, maintaining his casual posture. "Just that I've got a little something planned for our boys, and I thought you might be interested."

"Oh?" The demon stepped closer, drumming its fingers against its leg rhythmically. It was trying to be intimidating, and, on most other demons, Crowley had to admit, it probably would have worked. Especially the ones who knew its track record, which was to say, most of them. You didn't pull a stunt like this one had and go unnoticed. "Care to elaborate?" A smirk, sharp like knives, started to spread against its face.

Crowley explained his plan to the demon, which continued to stalk ever closer, until it was perched on the edge of Crowley's desk, listening with rapt attention.

"Interesting," it said, toying with a pen. "What happens if I refuse?"

Ah, now it was just playing with him. He knew better than that. "You won't. An opportunity for revenge like this only comes around once in a lifetime, after all. So what do you say?"

The smirk spread wider, grew even sharper still. "I'm in."

* * *

This is the result of a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. There may or may not be some sort of prize (I'll write something you request, maybe?) for the first person to correctly guess who the demon is.


	2. Chapter 2

Well then. I actually got around to updating something. Also, Sam and Dean were a pain to write.

* * *

After Crowley's call, Sam and Dean left quickly. The windows were still sprayed with graffiti, and her lifeless body was exactly where it had been at her moment of death. That was the way their job worked- they got in, did what they had to do, then got back out as quickly as possible. If something went wrong- which inevitably, it would- there was no time for goodbyes. That was a fact of life for the brothers by now.

However, Dean had barely turned the key in the Impala's ignition before the phone chimed again. The brothers shared a cautious glance with one another before Sam pushed the button and brought the phone up to his ear. Dean took his hands from the wheel and turned around in the seat to face Sam.

"Hello?"

"And one other thing," Crowley's voice caused the brothers to share twin looks of alarm, but they did not say anything. "Just in case you two were thinking of declining my offer, I've decided to send a little extra persuasion your way. Think of it as a present. Don't try any funny business though, or I'll have my hellhounds on you faster than you can blink. Are we clear?"

"What do you want, Crowley?" Dean growled.

"I thought I made myself clear. You give up the-"

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Dean had grabbed the phone from Sam's hand, and was coming dangerously close to full-on shouting at it.

Crowley cut Dean off. "While I'd love to stick around and chat, I've got business to attend to. King of Hell, and all that. So I'll just let someone else do the talking instead. Toodles!"

There were a few seconds of silence, before another, still male, but smoother and younger sounding, voice took over. "Hello Dean. Long time no see."

Dean's face settled into an expression halfway between caution and confusion, while meanwhile beside him, Sam wore a similar expression. Whatever game Crowley was playing, it was well outside their comfort zone. Give them something they could shoot at, something tangible, and the brothers were among the best of the best. When it came to mind games though, it was an entirely different story.

"Who is this?"

A harsh, short laugh came in way of reply. "Wouldn't you love to know? I bet you don't even remember me, do you? Did you think of me, even once?" The sentence ended with a snarl.

Dean shot a helpless look at Sam. Sam, having instantly interpreted the look as meaning 'who the hell is this guy?', shrugged.

"Well, Crowley's offering you a deal. I'm not. I'm going to track down everyone you've ever loved, everyone you've ever talked to, and tear them apart, piece by piece. And if Crowley thinks I'm going to stop just because he tells me to, because you two have some little deal worked out, he's wrong. He doesn't scare me, and neither do you." There were a few seconds of silence, punctuated only by the sound of footsteps and a door opening, made faint and muffled by the phone. "You two remember that nice store clerk from a few days ago, when you picked up some coffee, right?"

Dean could remember a woman's face, vague and utterly unremarkable, and there might have been a name attached to it... Sally or Sophie, maybe. But the turn the conversation had taken made his blood run cold. He knew demons well enough to know where this was going.

Sam beat him to it. "Whoever you are, let her go! She has nothing to do with this. She's innocent."

Another chuckle. "But that's just what you do, isn't it? Take innocent people and paint targets on their backs. I think there's a reason you don't stay in one place for very long. You can't bear to see the destruction you've caused." The demon's voice somehow managed to be singsong and mocking, and unspeakably bitter at the same time.

Dean's grip tightened around the phone, threatening to crush it in his fist. "Let her go!"

"Or what?" The sounds of weak struggling, maybe a chair clattering around on the floor, came through. "I'd tell her to say hello, but I'm afraid she doesn't have a tongue at the moment." The demon's voice was bleached of its previous traces of emotion; a near perfect monotone.

"Dammit! Let her go now, or when I find you, I'm gonna-"

"You can't save her now. Nobody can. And it's your fault."

The brothers were treated to a few seconds of the sound of human screams, raw and gargled. Dean shuddered, trying to suppress memories of Hell that suddenly threatened to creep to the surface. Sam closed his eyes and tried to block out the screams altogether, with little success.

Then the screams cut off as the demon on the other end hung up. It did little to ease Sam or Dean's anxiety. Even without being able to hear it, they knew that an innocent woman, a woman like the others they had saved, time and time over, was being tortured. And, Dean loathed to admit it, but the demon was right, there was nothing they could do about it right now.

"Come on." Sam gently took his phone from Dean's fingers and returned it to his pocket. "Let's just get out of here. We can't do anything for her like this."

"Do you think I don't know that, Sam? Do you think I'd just be sitting here if I thought there was even a sliver of hope that we could save that woman?" Dean swiveled in his seat, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

The rest of the return trip passed in an awkward sort of silence, broken only by the occasional cough from one of the brothers. Usually it was Sam, whose condition had begun to deteriorate again. Dean said nothing about it, put pushed his foot down a little harder on the gas pedal. Today was only another reason why they had to get all those bastards locked back up where they belonged, the sooner the better.

The phone rang for the third time in what felt like only minutes. In reality, it had been several hours since it had last rung.

Sam put it on speakerphone, and answered with a wheezy hello.

"You don't sound too well, Sam. The trials must really be getting to you."

Dean smothered the sudden impulse to slam on the brakes. "Just cut the games already. What do you want?"

"Revenge. And I figure if you're closing Hell's gates, I might as well get it sooner rather than later. Normally I wouldn't have bothered calling back, but you'll never guess who I ran into on the streets. Well, I say ran into. It actually took a whole team of demons to track him down, and even more to actually catch him. He had another angel with him too. That one got away. Poor Castiel wasn't so lucky.

Dean jerked the steering wheel suddenly, and the Impala pulled over to the side of the road, grinding slowly to a halt. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, until his knuckles went white. "Cas! What did you do to him?"

"Nothing, yet." The smirk on the demon;s face was practically audible. "But that's about to change real soon. I wonder what it sounds like when an angel screams?"

On the other end of the phone, the demon ended the call and folded the phone away into a neat suit pocket.

Then, the thing that had once been called Adam Milligan smiled; it was a sharp smile, with all teeth, much like that of a shark. He hadn't smiled a real smile in what felt like millennia. He selected a knife at random, twirling it idly between his fingers with practiced skill.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

* * *

To the (two? It's the middle of the night and I'm too lazy to check) people who guessed it: Good for you. And a general thanks to everyone who reviewed or subscribed.

I'll try to keep updates coming with some semblance of regularity, but

due to an unfortunate thing called life, I can't make any promises.


End file.
